


The Denouement

by alwayslimerent



Category: Fiction - Fandom, Romance - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fiction, Romance, the denouement
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 07:28:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9873344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwayslimerent/pseuds/alwayslimerent
Summary: Marina Winters is a young, damaged girl who does not have a huge selection of people, places, or even things to hold onto. Once she meets a man who is eager to enhance the happiness of patients at her hospital, the outcome of her life turns out differently than she planned.





	1. Chapter 1

A few days afterwards, I had to check up on the doctor to assure him that I was "okay", so once again, I sat in the dreadful hospital lobby while my mother was talking to the doctor about my somewhat recovery. 

Once I was about to go to the cafeteria, I noticed that same man that was almost staring at me a few days ago was still here, sitting down and looking at his phone. He was so tall and muscular that he made the chair almost look miniature for him. Once I leaned over, covering my stomach with my purse to make myself feel the least fat in front of others (especially this...attractive man), I realized he was once again staring at me. I looked up and decided to look him straight in the eye to see what he would do. 

He was just staring at me, with a smirk forming in the corner of his eye, his brown eyes glistening in the flourescent lights of the hospital lobby. I guess I started to accidentally give him a sarcastic look, because he raised his eyebrows in a cocky manner. I half-smiled while raising my eyebrows at the ground and turned back to looking at the horrid paintings that I've already memorized from my time being here. 

I curiously decided to look back once again for the hell of it, and he was still staring. With me and not liking uncomfortable situations like this, I grabbed my purse and left, and turned around to see his still-present smirk saying a "goodbye" to me. 

Once I was in the cafeteria, I really kind of forgot why I walked there in the first place. Of course, I couldn't have just took a stroll around the hospital, or else people would find me suspicious. What the hospital does not know is that I do not need a cast, or an eye patch, or crutches and a wheelchair to be disfunctional, or ill. It's all in my brain, and I believe that's more pain than a broken leg or a lost eye could ever give me. Lost in my thoughts, I dropped the apple I just purchased. I was about to say "shit" under my breath, when I noticed a hand had already caught the apple for me before it could even get past my knees. I looked up and realized the man I saw in the lobby was the one who seized the falling apple. 

I was assuming the man was mute. With that assumption, I rolled my eyes with a smile, took the apple out of his hand, turned around, and walked to a table so I could eat my negligable snack. While I was walking, I realized he was following me. I turned around, with bewilderment on my face.

"May I ask why you are here?" I asked, looking at him. He was so tall he almost blocked the cafeteria lights from my face. It was kind of intimidating. 

"I noticed in the lobby you looked pretty scared." He said, with a smooth voice. Oh. Well, then.

"I am." I replied with a straight face.

"You're alive." He said with an optimistic tone, his eyes lively in the optimism. "Isn't that enough for you?"

"Yeah, I guess." I sat down, with my apple, just playing with it in my hand, like a baseball.

"What do you mean by that? Do not tell me you do not have at least one thing to live for." He said, getting serious. 

"I've went through a lot of things, I suggest you not push me." I frowned, getting irritated that he was getting into so much of my business right in the moment we meet. I had no clue weather to trust this man or not. 

"I'm not pushing you, don't get defensive." He said in a monotone.

"Okay. I'll just give you a quick summary. I was molested when I was a kid, I suffered anorexia, I've attempted suicide which is the reason why I know this hospital like I should've known my high school, I have depression, and I cut myself a bit too much." I set the apple on the table, while grabbing my wrist and playing with the ends of the sleeves of my sweater, something I do when I'm anxious.

"I'm sorry." He was staring at the apple on the table. "But, can I ask you one thing?" 

"You just did." I said in monotone, a sarcastic look on my face. 

"Do you fear death?"  He pushed the apple towards me. 

"No. I actually wish for it everyday." I said, smiling like I should be talking about love letters or something "normal".

He sat there, staring at me, and I could see the discomfort in his eyes once those words came out of my mouth, along with an odd smile. 

"I think if you were just happier, you would." He said, staring off into space.

"Why should I? There's no reason to be afraid of dying. You have to go sometime." I crossed my arms in defense, getting irritated again with his interrogation.

"If you had so many sights you've seen, places to go, music to hear, people to meet, things to talk and laugh about, books to read, clothing to wear, things to do with your life, why would you want it to end? When you read a book, why would you want it to end? I know that we all have to go sometime, and that there may be an end to the human race, but that has to discomfort you a little, at the least. You aren't uncomfortable with the fact that you do not know what happens after this? Heaven, Hell, or an alternate universe that we don't know about? Will you be a ghost? Don't you fear the unknown?" I could tell his blood pressure was rising.

"The unknown is the unknown. That dosen't mean you should fear it. It's just simply something you do not know. Sure, I may not know what will happen when I'm gone, but I'll find out when I get there. I'm not the one fussing about it, though. Why, you ask? Because death dosen't scare me, and it shouldn't scare you either."

"I beg to differ." He smiled. Why the hell was he smiling while we were arguing?

"Excuse me?" I furrowed my eyebrows and clutched my purse, feeling uneasy about this man.

"I'm Eugene Collins." He smiled, leaning into the table now that he introduced himself. "What's your name? Ms. Pessimistic?" He smiled even more. He was actually kind of handsome, and I was growing on him, even though on the outside I looked like I wanted to shove him out of Dracula's castle to die.

I was silent for a minute or two, staring at the apple, my depression kicking into my thoughts, questioning my  apetite for the apple. 

"Are you going to eat that?" He asked, now serious again.

"I don't know, to be honest." I said, staring into the rose-red apple, waiting for it's fate. 

"I think you should." He smiled, while holding the apple in his hands. "The apple, such a beautiful fruit, and one of the healthiest foods a human can eat. High in Vitamin C, low in calories, only a drop of sodium, and no fat or cholesterol." He handed the apple to me, while looking into my eyes. "I'd say you picked the best thing out of the cafeteria."

"It's Marina." I finally told him my name, somewhat trusting him since I assumed he was going to be at the hospital for a while, at least for a majority of while I'm here. "Winters." I added my last name.

"Marina Winters. Pretty name. Eat the apple. You deserve it." He smiled while I hesitantly took the apple and had a bite. 

"I'm looking foreward to arguing with you about death again, Marina." He smiled while he stood up, pushed in his chair, and walked away.

While I was walking out with my mother, she asked me who I was talking to in the lobby and the cafeteria. 

"No one, Mom." I replied while the sliding doors opened for us. "Just another sane guy wanting to interview a lunatic."


	2. Chapter 2

"So how long are you going to keep going back to the hospital?" My best friend, Alison, asked me while she was over at my house.

"I really don't know. As long as it takes for people to not get paranoid about me anymore." I rolled my eyes, leaning against the counter and fidgeting with a box of cigarettes in my hands. Alison was really the only person who understood what I was going through. We always used to get high every other weekend together, when we were home alone, or even would go out in the middle of the night on the front porch and that's where we would go sometimes. We were both fucked up, but we made the best out of our insanity. 

"You know it's almost about to be a year, right?" Alison asked, getting the whiskey out of the alcohol cabinet. My parents never drink, so when we're done drinking, Alison and I fill the whiskey bottle with tea to make it look like we've never drank out of it. Alison and I have been doing this for a year, and so far we've never been caught. 

"Yeah.." It's almost been a year since I blacked out that one night I stopped breathing for an hour and my heart stopped. I had to be taken to the hospital, with my parents being afraid that I could have died in my sleep due to anorexia. Every year on this day, I just get an ounce of depression, but I submerge my sorrows with whiskey.

"When are your parents going to be home?" Alison asked.

"Around seven." I said, once Alison got out the cigarrettes and lit one. After she decided to light one for me too, I heard a knock at the door. 

"I'll get it." Alison mumbled with the cigarrette in her mouth. I took a breath of the precious smoke myself as I sat on the kitchen counter, in my tight tank top and shorts, breathing out all of my angst. I just leaned back, shut my eyes, and let the nicotine do it's job. 

As soon as I heard footsteps, I opened my eyes, and saw Andy, my boyfriend walk into the kitchen.

"Marina, baby, you know I don't like it when you smoke." He said, stroking my bare shoulder.

With my frustration with Andy telling me what I should and shouldn't do, I just took in a huge amount of smoke and blew it in his face, causing him to cough.

"That's disgusting." He glared at me.

"That's me. Deal with it, or get the fuck out." I smiled as Alison rose the bottle of whiskey and had a drink of it, still a lit cigarette in her hands. 

"You're throwing your life away, baby." Andy put his arm around my back.

"It's the only way to deal with the pain. Obviously nothing else works." I glared at him, agitated that he was dictating my decisions. 

"It's not the only way." He smirked at me.

"Brielle is suppossed to come over. Wanna play Truth or Dare when she comes?" Alison asked, sensually touching my arm. 

I completely hated Andy. I didn't know why I was still with him. Maybe it was because I was too kind and didn't want to let him down. Or, maybe it was just because I wanted something to do. Whatever it was, I didn't want it anymore. 

Once Brielle came over, We all gathered into a circle. Alison still had her whiskey that her and I shared, and we still smoked our sweet cigarettes like there was no tomorrow. 

"Truth or Dare, Marina?" Brielle asked. 

"Dare." I said, crawling so our faces were incredibly close to each other. "I love dares." I breathed out smoke in her face.

"Get in the closet with Andy." she whispered.

I looked over at Andy, and I could tell that he knew what Brielle whispered. In immediate disgust, Andy grabbed my arm, taking my cigarrette out of my mouth with his fingers and putting it in the ash tray. He helped me up as we walked in my bedroom closet, Alison and Brielle following us, and Alison slamming the door behind us, locking us in. 

"Seven minutes in heaven. I'm setting the timer." Brielle said, while I saw Andy staring at me, stroking my torso and breathing heavily. 

"Damn." He sighed. He put his hands on me while I felt nothing at all. He slammed me against the wall and started sucking the skin of my neck, breaking blood vessels. It would feel great, you know, if it wasn't Andy. This was literally all Andy wanted me for. Sex.

While I gasped in pain, he started to try to take off my shirt, while I had no problem with that, either. Once he tried to go further, I started to feel uncomfortable. I felt his rhythmic flowing against my body, and his deep breaths against my ear. He grabbed my ass and then bent down, trying to unbutton my shorts. 

"Come on, baby." He looked up at me. "Let's do this before time is up." 

I realized where he was going with this, and that was where my alarm went off. I slapped his bigot face so hard it was red as the apple I ate yesterday. Andy immediately tried to find his exit, while I tried to put my clothes back on. Alison and Brielle were alarmed, but they left, along with Andy, who didn't say a word. 

Before I went to sleep that night, I laid in my bed, staring at my fairy lights, deep in thought of Eugene's words, about how I shouldn't waste my life away, and that was when I drifted to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

While I was back at the hospital, Eugene and I decided to talk in the cafeteria, since there was really no use to staring at each other in the lobby.

"So, Marina." He began as we sat down. I wasn't going to eat anything, because I didn't feel like eating and I just focused on getting to know Eugene more. 

"So, are you a wrestler who broke a vein from screaming too much, or.." I glared at him questioning his presence in the hospital. 

"No, but I can lift someone up if I were to be in combat." He crossed his arms, revealing even more of his intimidating muscles. His somewhat childlike face looked around the room, and then he looked at me, also in a questioning attitude.

"Do you smoke yourself to death, or..." He said sarcastically. Knowing Eugene was probably perfectly healthy (at least he looked like it), I decided not to reply with "No, but I smoke.". 

"No." I said, sighing. "I already told you why I'm here, why don't you tell me why you're here?" I almost yelled at him.

"You're mean." He said, smirking at the table.

"No, I'm just mean to people who are mean to me. You're getting in my business and then questioning my actions. You're judging me, and I won't put up with it."

"I'm not judging." He got serious, his brown eyes looking right at me. My heart started racing. "I never judge anyone."

I sighed and looked at the table, which was what Eugene was doing a few minutes ago. I really did question why he was here. Does he have a family member here, or does he just enjoy taking strolls in hospitals and the receptionist lets him because he's attractive? 

"Really, though." I said apologetically. "Why are you here? Is it a family member?"

"No. I'd rather not talk about it. It leads into...bad memories." He stared into space with what seemed to be overwhelming discomfort. 

"I told you what happened with me, why can't you tell me what happened with you?" I said, trying my hardest to not get irritated."It's just really hard to guess why you're here. You look perfectly healthy. You probably excersise every second of eternity, actually sleep for seven hours like you're suppossed to, eat all the food groups, have those stupid motivation posters hanging up all over your house."

"I'm not an elementary school gym teacher, Marina." He laughed. "I'm just...cautious."

"Why? Haven't you ever had a slice of pizza once in a while?" I said, smiling.

"Yes. I love pizza." He smiled more.

We sat there in silence for a few minutes. When I was about to say something, Eugene spoke.

"You don't look so bad yourself. I wouldn't be suprised if people questioned why you were here." He smiled.

My smile completely gone, and my hands actually shaking, I pulled up my sweater sleeve to show Eugene the gauze wrapped around my wrist. I pulled the gauze out of the way so he could see my scars.  Eugene's smile immediately faded, and his eyes filled with discomfort once he interpreted my presence here. 

"I have scars too. In my mind." He said, looking in my eyes. 

"How?" I asked.

"Have you ever had a nightmare and you ended up remembering it?" I sat there, fidgeting with the tight gauze wrapped wround my wrist that I was trying to loosen. He leaned in over the table, closer to me, and looked right in my eyes. "What if your nightmares were real?" He almost whispered.

I just sat there, looking into his eyes that I couldn't seem to escape from. The silence amused Eugene, which was why he was smirking. 

"I wouldn't question someone like that." He got out of his chair, helped me up, and we walked out of the cafeteria.


	4. Chapter 4

I told my mother about Eugene. Once the way I was talking about him escaped my lips, she grew apprehensive about my descisions. She had warned me about guys like Andy, and she reviewed the entire "Guys only want one thing" talk, and I explained to her that that wasn't the way I viewed Eugene. Eugene was childlike but still mature enough to handle himself, which was something I admired. 

"You can't be decieved just because he's good-looking, nice, charming,..." My mother started to yell at me. "You have to dig deep into their core to see what kind of person they are. I just don't want you to get hurt again." My mother didn't know that I wasn't a virgin anymore, for I had lost it to some guy that threatened to put pictures of my face photoshopped on a naked woman everywhere, if I didn't give him money. Before that disaster happened and he went to jail, I lost it to him, which was a mistake, and something I will never get back. Another reason I wanted to die: I wanted to start my life all over again so I wouldn't lose my virginity to a disgusting asshole that deserves to rot in hell.

Eugene was so much better than the guys I've seen and heard and talked to. Eugene seemed like he wanted nothing related to that "one thing". He just wanted someone to talk and laugh with, and someone to tell his stories to, and someone to guide, is what it seemed like to me. 

I really did like Eugene, and I hoped I would see him everytime I was at the hospital. I hoped maybe I would see him outside of the hospital, because I didn't really grow fond of the idea that Eugene and I's hangout is a hospital cafeteria. That's sort of unsettling for me to think of. I started to think about Eugene as the days passed on, and I grew more fond of him as time went by. Eugene was probably my only real friend besides Alison. Brielle was okay, but she talked to me about the stupidest negligable things, and just didn't understand me. For example, when she dared me to get in the closet with Andy (which we all know didn't end well) and didn't even say anything afterwards, like nothing explicit ever happened. 

I don't know why my mother thought Eugene was like Andy. If anything, Eugene would completely loathe Andy. They were two complete opposites, like fire and water. Eugene had the maturity that Andy didn't have, and he also wasn't arrogant or had sex on his filthy mind all of the time. 

Eugene was the simplest mind I've dissected. I loved the ideology of his simplicity.


	5. Chapter 5

An infinate array of books was all that surrounded me, and it granted me such pleasure and excitement, yet the shelves of books at the bookstore was placating me of all my worries. Instead of trying to cut my skin or scratch my scars, I decided to mollify myself with the amount of books that a drug addict's amount of cocaine would be delighted with.

I picked up "Alice's Adventures In Wonderland", my favorite book, and glanced out the window anxiously. Whilst I was staring into space, a familiar face caught my eye while he walked in. I smiled as I saw Eugene, in a black tshirt, slowly walking around the bookstore entry and kindly greeting the workers, smiling. 

Once he saw me, his smile grew wider.

"Hey, Death Girl." He looked down at me, smirking.

"Hi Eugene." I smiled. Eugene looked over by the coffee shop that was inside the bookstore and saw my mother, fixing her cup of coffee. 

"Why is your mother always with you?" He asked, which sparked my silence for a moment.

"i have to be under her supervision until I am one-hundred-percent trustworthy." I rolled my eyes, quoting what the doctors said. 

"What did you do?" He asked.

"I'll try to kill myself if she dosen't watch me, apparently." I rolled my eyes, flipping through the book that was in my hands. Eugene put his hands on the book, wanting to see the cover.

"Alice In Wonderland?" he asked, his brown eyes gazing at me.

"Yeah...why did you look at the cover when all you need to know is what's inside?" I tried to make eye contact with him without panicking, but I failed miserably.

"That story's not so bad." He said, looking around the room.

"So you do spend some time not eating fruits and veggies or lifting two-hundred-fifty pounds?" I said, shockingly.

"Yes, I actually have more to life than my health, Marina." He laughed.

"That's good. I was starting to think you were obsessive about it." We started walking around the bookstore.

"No. I enjoy other activities. I watch movies, and walk around parks, and hang out with my friends, just like you do." I realized he took my book and was strolling around with it like a junior in high school would carry a textbook: in one hand, swaying back and forth by his waist.

"Not necessarily." I said, looking at the floor, my severly damaged black Vans dragging against the carpet. "My mother drags me to social activities, against my will."

"Why against your will?" He asked. 

"Because last time, I got bullied a lot by terrible people."

"You don't see me shoving you against a wall and screaming at you, do you?" He stopped to look at me, with again, me not looking back at him because of unknown fear.

"No." I said softly, looking at my book in his hand. Eugene looked down at the book, noticing I was looking at it.

"You love books, don't you?" He laughed.

"They're my meth." I smiled while shrugging. 

After our small-talk as usual, a short, petite man with blonde hair interuppted us. He was holding a book that could almost knock him out, if someone threw it at him. But, I was going to try not to think about violence at this moment. 

"Hey, Eugene. I found a calander with literally all your favorite football players--" He stopped and looked at me, apparently because I looked...well...crazy. I wore red lipstick, wore a ponytail in my hair all the time with my bangs free, and a large pink bow. I wore that with dresses, or tshirts and skinny jeans with just a sweatshirt. It was my look and I was concerned with why this man who could literally be short enough to be a sixth grader, was looking at me as if he was judging me in his head. "Who is this?" He asked.

"Marina Winters. I met her at the hospital about a week ago and we've been close friends ever since." He smiled while he smiled at me. "Marina, this is Jason, my best friend who helps me with a lot, sometimes too much and sometimes too little." 

"Hello, Jason, who helps Eugene when he dosen't need it and dosen't help Eugene when he does need it." I smiled.

"We're going to the mall after this, maybe you can come with us if your mother will let you? You can tell her that I'll be supervising you." He smirked, trying to convince me with his damn good looking face. 

"Maybe...if you give me my book back so we can pay for our things." I smiled effortlessly for the first time in a while. 

"Okay." He handed me my book and asked my mother, who said yes. Besides, I was nineteen, so it had to have been okay, with at least some supervision. 

"Marina Winters?" Eugene asked as I walked out the door, Jason waiting in the car.

"Yeah?" I asked, ready to forget about everything. The bad times, the good times, the neutral. I just wanted to feel like a different person.

"Care to have a day to be happy to be alive with me?"


	6. Chapter 6

We passed store after store after store, and laughed; not in a forced manner, but in more of an effortless manner. We were drinking coffee and pointing out all of the people in the mall. Jason was acting like an idiot, because he literally messed with everything in the store. He had the attention span of a defective goldfish. Jason always would pick out things that Eugene says, and they would playfully argue about it. About an hour before we decided to go out to dinner, Jason was flaunting about his gym exercises pompuslly, so Eugene, being seven years older than him, decided to challenge him to run ten laps around the entire hallway of the mall. Jason didn't really take the dare, because he was being cowardly, like most arrogant people are. 

Jason's arrogance made him who he was though, which suprised me because I was enourmously vexed by people who managed to be arrogant, but without Jason's signature quality, he would be...quite boring. Jason and Eugene were two odd best friends. Seven years apart, (Jason was just graduating high school, and Eugene was trying to find a career that had to do with health or fitness) and always fooling around. Eugene, like always, was like the big brother. The guidance, the director, and the wise one, if you would say. He was the eldest of the trio. 

Right there, in that moment, I felt myself feeling an attatchment to Eugene, like I do with everyone I meet, and can't let them go. He was just so tall compared to me, and was getting more handsome by every second I looked at him. When he caught me staring at him, his warm brown eyes looking right at me, I immediately looked to the ground, and noticed from the corner of my eye Eugene laughing and smiling. His hand was so close to mine that if we made any accidental movements, our hands could touch. 

After the mall, us three went out to dinner to an old diner that was right by the mall. Jason realized he forgot his jacket, and it was starting to get chilly outside, so he ran out to get it after we had all ordered our food. My heart was pounding so hard, I felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. I could feel the blood rushing to my face. Why did it have to be now, for me to fall for Eugene? Why couldn't it be while I was alone in my bedroom, on my bed staring at the ceiling, with a vinyl of slow songs playing in the background, like a thirteen-year-old girl in the fifties? It seemed to me like people can be just a friend, and nothing more than a friend to you, and then one day they do something so simple like telling a joke, or laughing, or simply just doing something as random as asking how your day was, or being competitive with someone, it would make you say "It just kinda happened." because, well...it did just kind of happen. You feel yourself falling deeper with every second, while during that fall, trying to hold onto the ground before you fall down the rabbit hole and hit something. 

I hope Eugene had a parachute or something so it wouldn't hurt as much. When you fall, well...you get hurt. It's basic logic that still applies to the concept of love. 

While I was lost in my thoughts, Eugene looked up at me and noticed I was staring off into space, like I always do when I'm thinking. 

"So, Death Girl..." Eugene began, which startled me, but I didn't really mind being startled by him. 

"'Death Girl' has a name." I said, looking at him in a way I hope I've never looked at him before. 

 

"Marina..." He corrected himself. "I would really be interested in knowing a more expanded version of your tale as to why you ended up meeting me in a place like the local hospital." He smiled widely.

"What do you want to know?" I asked, curiously.

"Everything. There's no specific place you need to start at. You can tell me anything you'd like me to know."

"I'm from Germany. I was molested when I was a kid...but I really don't want to say anything about that story." I strongly rubbed my sweater sleeves together, like I always did more often around Eugene. 

"It's fine. Tell me what you want me to know." He still smiled, despite what I was about to tell him.

"I don't really have any friends. I lost all of them. The only real best friend I've ever had was Alison. We do...things together. I got hospitalized when I almost cut an artery from trying to cut myself, and was trying to make myself not wake up. My mother walked in on me, and...yeah. My parents have so much hospital bills to pay, and I wish I could help. I have so much scars you wouldn't be able to find a piece of skin on my body that's scar-free except my face. I've been blackmailed to...have sex, and I've been humiliated. I've had my heartbroken so many times, that I'm losing hope. I just hate how people use stories like this to get sympathy, or to get someone to love them. It's not a 'story' to me. It's my life. I drown my life's sorrows away with whiskey and music at ear-bleeding volumes. I've come to realize that it's not a long way away to where I'll have no one and I'm starting to live with it and become okay with it."

"Well aren't you a lucky one?" Eugene asked, which I didn't know weather it was sarcasm, or if it was just him being an asshat. 

"Why?" I asked, in shock of that question, while Eugene pointed to himself. "I get a new friend?" I asked, bewildered.

"Much more than that. Someone who is going to help you."


	7. Chapter 7

I looked down on my cell phone and saw Eugene's newly taken picture by his number on my phone, to which he had put on there before we left to say goodbye. His smile was so simple, and his eyes looked right into the camera. The picture was impeccable, and I couldn't stop looking at it. 

Once I got home, I rendered the decision not to eat dinner, because I was just too enthusiastic to eat. It was ten of the clock, and I brushed my hair, stripped down to a tank top and my underwear, brushed my teeth, looked in the mirror finally smilling effortlessly while wiping away all of my makeup and apprehension. I felt so fatigued. I just had to sleep. I walked into my darkened and somber bedroom, embracing myself in my blanket, drifting to sleep...

                                      *                                     *                               *

My phone notification went off. I immediately awoke and glanced over at my phone, which almost blinded my eyes. It was about one in the morning, and I recieved a text message from Eugene. I walked in the empty lightless kitchen, lit a cigarette and sat at the kitchen table, reading the message from Eugene. 

'I know it's the middle of the night, but I need to just talk to you one last time. I'm at the hospital.' Eugene texted. 

After I read the text, I put out my cigarette and changed into a pair of jeans, and put on a belt so they could stay on my waist. I had to poke two new holes in my belt because the first set of holes weren't tight enough for me. I slipped on my Vans and grabbed my purse, got in my car, and drove off to see Eugene. Even though I was drained and tired, I've never felt that zoetic in the middle of the night.

Once Eugene saw me walk in, he immediately said "We can meet anywhere but here." while grabbing my shoulders and looking into my eyes. It made me skittish, just like Eugene always made me feel.

"My house?" I asked.

"Sure." He said as he took my hand, which shocked me. "It's getting cold out there, isn't it?"

"It's called seasons. They change where we live." I said sarcastically.

"Quite sarcastic, aren't you Marina?" He laughed as we walked out the door.

"Yes." I smiled, realizing that Eugene filled the spot of the only one. 

Once we walked in the door to my house, Eugene immediately paused once he saw my kitchen table. I wondered what he was looking at with such concern until I realized that three razor blades rested on a napkin were sitting gracefully on the table, along with a pack of cigarettes and an ash tray. 

"Marina..." He began, while looking at me with peril.

"I'm sorry!" I tried to laugh it off, as my voice got higher due to my nerves. 

"Promise you'll stop." He said firmly.

"Why? So you can tell everyone that you have a bad influence of a friend?" I asked, smiling.

"No." He walked over towards the refrigerator, and opened it. "I just care about my friends, that's all." Once he opened it I saw a look of peril on his face once he saw the bottle of whiskey that was manifest in the refrigerator. He looked at me with an abominable expression on his face. 

"Marina, theres so much alcohol in here...where's the food?" He asked as I just felt accosted by his inquiries. 

"Eugene...try out the whiskey." I said, walking over towards him.

"No." He said, appalled.

"Just have a sip. One drink won't kill you. Whiskey is actually good for you on occasions. People actually used it for medicine. I drank it when I had colds back in Germany."

"You don't drink it for colds, you drink it for your own sweet pleasure. To drown out your emotions, to intoxicate all feeling from your life. Guess what, Marina? All you're going to do is intoxicate yourself, and sell your sweet God-forsaken soul to alcohol. If that's what your life is all about, I don't want any part of it, and I'm walking out that door right now. Do you understand?" He raised his voice, which sounded extremely irked by the entire subject.

"Eugene, it won't hurt you! People drink wine at weddings, celebrations, and when you're sick. Alcohol keeps you warm when you're freezing to death, beer has all thirteen minerals you need to live. Hell, even vodka has some benefits. Since you're so health-consious, why don't you have a sip? It will only do you a great favor. By the way, I'll get intoxicated if I want to. That's up to me. At least I'll loosen up and have fun."

 

Eugene finally took a sip of the whiskey and shot me a perplexed look. "...It's tea." He said, with a benign look on his face, quelling his anger. All I did was stare at him placidly with a smile. 

"Opposites really do attract." he said.

                                       *                                       *                                      *

Eugene had made me a dinner that was considered fine dining to me. A bowl of oatmeal with berries and bananas, a cup of steaming hot tea, and a blueberry muffin. It was delicious, and due to my sudden starvation, I almost scarfed it down, like a homeless man who was given his first meal in weeks. 

"Marina, I've been needing to tell you this but you keep changing the subject." Eugene finally stated once he sat down across from me at the kitchen table. 

"What is it?" I asked, taking a sip of tea, trying to be reverent with the way I presented myself while eating. 

"You have to stop this. I don't like seeing you crumble like chipped paint." Eugene looked me straight in the eyes, which I had to avoid.

"Marina, look at me." He said, the softness and sincerety in his voice induced me effortlessly to look at him.

"Why do I have to stop? What's the damage I'm causing?" 

"You're smoking instead of eating. You're drinking bottles of whiskey and repacing it with tea so your parents don't notice, you are constantly looking at yourself in the mirror and checking your weight and calculating calories and I just don't want you to live such a formidable life like this. Please, I'm begging you to stop." Once he was finished with his tirade, he looked at me with such emotion that it was very hard to say no to. If only Eugene knew how I felt. If only he knew about the way his arms looked so muscular and warm that I just wanted to know how it would feel if they were holding me. Or what it would be like to make him laugh, since his smile is the quality of his that assuaged me the most. But, alas, I may never feel that feeling that kindled my heart and the blood in my veins. At least mutually. Love, or even infactuation, if you will, has to be mutual for it to be true. Unfortunately, a mutual feeling as delacate as these, were in fact a rarity.

"I'll try to stop. For you." I looked him in the eyes.

"No, not for me." He got up to put his dishes in the sink.

"Then for what?" I asked.

"For yourself." He said so simply in a auspicious voice.


	8. Chapter 8

And so the days went by, without really any signs of Eugene after that day. The aberrations of him were increasing, in which I didn't know weather I should have taken umbrage to his absence or not. My mind kept replaying the memories of him over and over and they wouldn't stop, causing me to lose balance a lot and have shaky hands and cold feet. My breathing was uneven all the time, and I always seemed to have an aching stomach. It accosted me mentally, emotionally, and physically. These odd linements may seem ostentatious, and they made zero sense to me, but I felt as if the absense of him gave me time to think about what I should feel about him. It's been two weeks since he's been at the hospital, or since he's texted or called me, or since he's shown any sign to me that he was alive. I thought he was the one who always reminded me so of the idea of being happy to be alive? Who is the one to remind him, now, if he forgot?

It became a routine. I would wake up, check my phone for signs of Eugene, and find nothing. But, that didn't stop me from texting him throughout the day. I wasn't due for another hospital trip in a while, so I would just sit on my couch while my parents would be at work for hours, and watch movies on the couch. I loved to watch Pet Cemetary, with it being my favorite. After I would get tired of sitting and staring at just a glowing screen, (because that was all that it would be when my eyes would be filled with tears) I would get up and fix myself a cup of tea. While I would drink my tea, I would stare at the untouched pack of cigarettes, think about what Eugene said that night, and then when I would start to shake and cry, I would throw anti-depressants down my throat and chase it with lukewarm water. 

The hours would go by of me just pacing and going through my phone. I would just listen to music, but the lyrics were too hard to comprehend because there was so much going on in my head, and my overthinking drowned out the music, to make it only sound like faint noise. After I would realize that the sun has set to go to sleep, I would then realize that I need sleep too. I would go on the scale for the hundredth time, check my weight, and go to bed, crying myself to sleep, of course. 

As I was trying to sleep, my phone went off. The noise was so eccentric to hear, because I've went through almost two weeks of feeling half-asleep, like I'm in a dream, like nothing is real ; feeling devoid. The noise almost awoke me, and reminded me that the day-to-day life I was living was real. 

It was a text from Eugene. My heart raced, knowing not what I was going to read. I didn't know if he was angry at me, or not. I had a feeling that he was though, a feeling I get everytime I get notified that someone has messaged me, that I would get some sort of libel from someone.

He was just asking me how I was doing, like it was inconspicuous that he acted as if he had never existed for two weeks. I decided to swallow my emerging anger and just text him back, responding with "Not good." 

I was waiting for Eugene to text me back, but I could finally continue with my dream that I was living even when I was awake, because I felt myself slowly drifting to sleep, without a response from Eugene.


	9. Prologue

I knew everything was wrong with me that day. I knew that I had to subdue this curb that was in my life, but when I laid there, staring at the mute television from my hospital bed, I thought that maybe my entire life was just a gargantuan curb. Maybe there weren't any bumps in the road, maybe the road was just a huge hill. 

"Are you feeling any better?" My mother walked in, stroking my hair while I was trying to get away from her touch. It vexed me. 

"No, not really." I said in a monotone. I looked at my scars, finally healing after I tried to cut an artery. 

"You can't do this, Marina. I did this because I love you." My mother said for the eightieth time today. 

I rolled my eyes as the doctor walked in, letting us know that we are free to go home, just with me on regulations: I have to be supervised, I can't be in contact with sharp objects that could cut me, blah blah blah, the whole "she must be watched, she's crazy" kind of talk. I wasn't crazy. (Well, maybe I was on second thought) I was just depressed, and miserable. 

I went in the bathroom to change into my clothes and out of my hospital gown. I looked in the mirror and saw the ebony circles underneath my eyes, and an empty tear shedded down my face. I quickly changed into clothes, even though I was in a more sluggish mood, got my things, and waited in the hospital lobby while my mother was talking to the doctors. 

So here's what happened: My whole life is just a depressing essay that people try to romantisize into poetry (at least without my permission). I've been hospitalized multiple times for suicide attempts, (trying to overdose on pills, trying to drink myself to death, cutting my wrists until I black out) and I've suffered anorexia. I do not refuse to eat anymore, but I still get consious about my weight. People tell me that I am not overweight, but since I've developed this shadow taken over me that changes the way my mind sees myself, I look in the mirror and just see myself getting bigger, and bigger, and bigger. I've also suffered depression that I'm still trying to overcome. People try to write about people like me, and try to be like me to get people to like them, but that's not how it works. Diseases are something that takes over the mind. You see people with cancer, or a heart attack get flowers and understanding, but if you have a mental illness, then you just get judged, labelled as "crazy", and get thrown in a nuthouse.

Whilst my mother was filling out papers and talking to the thin, fatigued lady at the desk, I decided to look around the lobby. All that there was were depressed people like me sitting in tedious chairs, either looking at their phones or anxiously gripping onto their jackets with a worrysome look on their faces. Me? I just sat there, looking empty as red plastic cups at a college party. There were paintings that I'm assuming no one thought they were that great, so they just threw them in a random hospital lobby because they were desperate. There were plants that needed some watering, and very monochrome faint elevator music playing. To be honest, I believe the hospital lobby itself was as depressing as the people inside it.

Still in my silence, I saw a tall, muscular man sit down a few seats across from me. He looked perfectly healthy and young, so I questioned why he was here. He looked like someone you would see jogging downtown in ridiculous weather. I just glanced at him for a few seconds, before I realized his eyes glanced at me. I quickly looked away, seeing that my mother was still filling out papers. 

When my mother looked at me, signalling that it was time to go home after this enduring week, I looked back and saw him staring right at me. I put on my jacket, as my mother smiled at me, while I was still in shock and despair from my week at the hospital. The sliding doors opened for us as I left, thinking nothing of the man sitting in the chair across from me.


	10. The Denouement

Dedicated to my dear friend, who I know does not have a lot left, but keeps holding on. For the people who are unaware of the reasons to be happy to be alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I announced this on my wattpad a little while ago, but this story is discontinued. It is still one of my writings so it will be available to read on here. Thank you for understanding, and enjoy what I have written of this story.


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